


Wine Redux

by kiranerys42



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Coming Out, Friendship, Gen, Metaphorical Wine, Podfic Welcome, Questioning, Sexuality Crisis, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 02:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20038177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranerys42/pseuds/kiranerys42
Summary: David and Stevie have another conversation about wine.





	Wine Redux

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [olive2read](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olive2read) for the encouragement and for reminding me how the original wine conversation actually went.

“Sorry, honey, I can’t come over ‘til later tonight. I promised Stevie I’d meet her for dinner.” David held his phone to his ear with one shoulder while locking up the Apothecary. He jiggled the door handle as he tried to get the key to turn—they really should call the locksmith to come fix it, but Patrick had been insisting for weeks that it wasn’t that bad.

“Anyway,” David continued. “I’ll text you before I head over. Love you.” As he jostled the handle more vigorously, David’s phone slipped from his ear and fell to the ground. “Oh, fuck,” he exclaimed, bending to pick it up.

“What did that door ever do to you?” he heard Stevie ask as she approached the storefront.

David stood back up and pocketed his phone and keys. “The door’s broken. Patrick says he can fix it, but I think he’s been watching too many YouTube tutorials and is getting delusions of handyman grandeur.”

“I could ask Roland to help him,” Stevie suggested.

David winced. “Please don’t. We’re not that desperate yet.”

“Okay.”

They both stood there silently for a moment. It was weird. Why was Stevie being weird? Or was David the one being weird? He wasn’t sure. It had been a long day, and he’d had to skip lunch; he couldn’t be expected to know how to deal with people right now.

“Um. Let’s go eat?” David asked. “I’m pretty hungry.”

“Oh. Yeah. Let’s go,” Stevie said, as if she’d just remembered they were supposed to go eat dinner, even though that was the entire reason she was here.

The uncomfortable silence continued as they walked to Café Tropical.

* * *

Once they were seated at the café, David tried to make small talk. He asked Stevie about the new sheets at the hotel, and whether Roland had figured out what was wrong with the washing machine yet. Usually, Stevie wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to complain about Roland. But tonight, he could barely get her to string more than two words together.

Then David tried telling her about his day—the teens who had started loitering in front of the store again, the weird old woman who’d bought their entire stock of lip balm, and of course the broken lock. It was nice to vent, but after a while it got boring, because it was obvious Stevie wasn’t listening.

Finally giving up on making conversation, David pulled out his phone to scroll through Instagram, but he was interrupted by Twyla.

“Hi! What can I getcha?”

“Burger. Fries. Water,” Stevie said.

David glared at Stevie. Obviously, she was in a bad mood, but she could at least speak in complete sentences. “Hi Twyla, I’ll have a chicken Caesar salad with the dressing on the side, please.” Why did he bother asking for the dressing on the side? Twyla never remembered. “Oh, and Stevie—”

“Yes, you can have some of my fries.”

“Thank you, Stevie. And thank you, Twyla,” David said pointedly as he handed the menus over.

Once Twyla left, David waited a moment to see if Stevie was ready to talk. Once he got tired of sitting in silence, he pulled his phone back out.

He’d barely begun to scroll through his Instagram feed before he was interrupted again. “David,” Stevie said, gently placing her hand over his phone and pushing it down to the table to get his attention.

David looked up expectantly, but it took Stevie a moment to continue.

“I want to… I mean…” Stevie took a deep breath. “I think I like white wine.”

Stevie looked nervous, but David couldn't understand why she would feel that way. The wine at the café was one of the better drink options, if you wanted something with alcohol in it; it was less gross than the liquor, and more cost-effective than the beer. Granted, it wasn't especially good wine, either. It was still kind of gross. But not so gross that you should be nervous about drinking it.

Then he remembered.

“Oh,” David breathed. “You like _white wine_.”

Slowly, Stevie nodded.

They stared at each other for a moment, not speaking. David was dying to say something, to ask questions, but he didn’t. He wanted to give Stevie space to explain this on her own terms.

Just when the silence was starting to get uncomfortably long, Stevie continued.

“I mean, I still like red wine. I really, really like red wine.”

“I know how much you like red wine,” David teased.

Stevie didn't react at all. It was as if she hadn't heard him. David was kind of annoyed, because he thought what he’d said was pretty funny. But Stevie just kept talking, as if now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop.

“I think I even prefer red wine. Except… I haven't had much luck with red wine.”

“Well,” began David, but she cut him off.

“But I don't think that's _because_ it's red wine, you know? It just… hasn't worked out. What if I'm only considering white wine because I've had such bad luck with red?”

“But—”

“And what if I try white wine and realize I don't like it? What if I just… take a sip of some white wine, to see if I like it, then decide I don’t like it after all? What do I do then, just throw away the rest of the bottle? That's a really awful—”

“_Stevie,_” David snapped, finally getting her to stop. Stevie was spiraling, and David didn’t want that. Not right now, not in the middle of the café, and definitely not over this. “Do we have to keep speaking in this ridiculous metaphor, or can we talk about you being attracted to women like the serious, emotionally mature adults we are?”

“We are literally none of those things.”

“Speak for yourself,” David retorted.

“And how is this a ridiculous metaphor? It’s _your metaphor_.”

“Um, excuse me, I’m pretty sure it’s _your_ metaphor.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, whoever’s metaphor it is,” David said, “I just went with it because you seemed confused by the concept. I thought it might help to put it in terms you could understand.”

“Well, maybe if I hadn’t been so ‘confused by the concept,’ I would have figured some things out a lot sooner.”

It was at that moment that David realized he’d said something wrong, because now Stevie looked sad. It was beginning to occur to David that this had the potential to go very badly, and he should probably be careful what he said. Stevie was coming out to him, and that was a hard thing to do. David felt like he should understand, and maybe in some ways he did, but in other ways he didn’t understand at all. He’d never really had a problem telling people about his sexuality. Granted, sometimes he’d used silly explanations like Stevie’s wine metaphor. And sometimes people were confused, but that was on them, because David definitely wasn’t confused. And of course, sometimes people reacted badly. Sometimes it was _really_ bad. He’d been in some pretty fucked up situations.

David didn’t want to think about any of that right now. He needed to focus on Stevie.

“Have you… um. Did you… have you talked to anyone else about this?”

“Um. No? Isn’t this what friends are for? To be there for you in a time of need? Or during a crisis of sexuality?”

“You should talk to Patrick.”

“I don’t think Patrick knows much about being attracted to women,” Stevie said.

David didn’t laugh, and now Stevie was the one who looked disappointed that her joke had fallen flat. Maybe he should have laughed? But he didn’t feel like laughing.

“Patrick knows a lot about having a crisis of sexuality,” David argued.

“Is that one of his pet names for you? Are you his ‘crisis of sexuality?’”

“I’m serious, Stevie. I don’t really understand not knowing, or questioning, or… whatever it is you’re going through. I’ve just always known. But Patrick knows what it’s like. To be… unsure.”

“Patrick doesn’t know what it’s like to be attracted to both, though.”

“You do realize there’s more than ‘both.’”

“Yes, I know, gender is not a binary; believe it or not, I do sometimes listen to your rants. But I’m having enough trouble with the idea of being attracted to women right now, let’s save all the other genders for another day.”

Just then, Twyla showed up with their food. “Here you go!” she chirped, setting their plates down. “Do you need anything else?”

Stevie just stared down at her burger without responding. David sighed and turned towards Twyla.

“Twyla, this is lovely; thank you so much. I think we’re good for right now.”

“You’re welcome! Just let me know if you need something else!”

Stevie glared at David as Twyla walked away, then glared at her burger, then began eating her burger.

David picked up his fork and poked at his salad, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat. This conversation wasn’t going well. What was the right way for this conversation to go, exactly? He should be more prepared for this. Why couldn’t he get this right?

David knew that coming out could be scary even if you knew deep down that the person you were coming out to would accept you. Just look at how things had gone with Patrick and his parents. And Stevie _had_ to know that David didn’t care who she was attracted to, right?

Except David did care. Maybe he didn’t care about their gender, but he did care that Stevie’s potential partners were good people. Nice people. Well, maybe not nice; nice might be optional. But definitely good.

“So where is this coming from?” David asked. “Is there someone you’re interested in?”

“Not really.” Stevie shrugged. “There’s not, like, a specific person who made me realize I’m… you know. This isn’t like what happened with you and Patrick.”

David balked. “Excuse me?”

“You know.” Stevie gestured with the hand that was holding her burger, taking a swig of water with her other hand.

David did not know.

“No, really,” David said, setting his fork down. “What happened with me and Patrick?”

“Deeply repressed gay man comes running out of the closet when he meets the love of his life; they team up to open an overpriced store that doesn’t sell anything useful, then they live happily ever after. The end.”

“Wow. Okay then. I guess you’re not making a speech at our wedding.” David picked his fork back up and tried to eat more of his salad. It really wasn’t very good. The chicken was alright, but the lettuce was wilted.

Stevie watched David pick at his salad for a moment, then wordlessly pushed her plate of fries towards him.

* * *

After dinner, they both decided to order a glass of wine. Stevie ordered white wine, which David managed to not comment on. He was very proud of his self-restraint.

“So,” David began, “there's this lovely sauvignon blanc I'd like to introduce you to. She's one of our vendors—I think I’ve mentioned her before, the woodworker who makes coasters and those little animal figurines?”

Stevie shook her head vigorously, her eyes widening.

“Or is it too soon? You’re not quite ready to go wine tasting?”

“I don't even know if I _like_ sauvignon blanc. Or if I’d prefer a chardonnay. Or whatever other flavors of wine there are. I don't actually know anything about wine. Or sexuality. Or gender, apparently.”

“Okay, I thought I’d give it another try, but I’ve changed my mind. This metaphor is ridiculous,” David said. “Let’s never speak of it again.”

Stevie fiddled with the stem of her wine glass, staring at it intently. “You’re right. We don’t need to talk about this anymore. Let’s just… talk about something else.”

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant. This is—”

“It’s fine, really,” Stevie interrupted. “Just… stop.”

“No, I won’t stop. I’m beginning to think I’m really fucking this up, and I need to _fix_ it, so you just… listen, okay?”

Stevie looked kind of like she wanted to run away, but David took a deep breath and continued, hoping she’d stay long enough to hear him out.

“You know it’s okay to be unsure, right? It’s okay to not know. I might not understand it, but it’s _okay_. You can want to date men, or women, or mostly men and just some women, or just _one_ woman, or… or you can decide you don’t want to date at all. You can even date Jake again, if you want to; I _really_ wouldn’t recommend that, or understand it, but I’d support you.”

Stevie let out a laugh that sounded a bit like a sob.

“And it’s okay that you’re figuring this out later in life—”

“Wait, are you calling me _old_?” Stevie interjected.

“—and it’s okay if you’re _still_ figuring it out next month, or next year, or ten years from now. It’s all fine. It’s just… all of it. All of it is fine.”

“Okay. Is that all?” Stevie asked, her voice shaking. She looked like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry.

“And you should _really_ talk to Patrick, because I am genuinely terrible at this sort of thing; just ask Jocelyn about that time she thought I’d be good at mentoring queer youth. It was a disaster.”

“You did alright that time Patrick’s parents came to visit.”

“Yes, well,” said David. “That’s different.”

“Because it’s Patrick? Or because it’s his parents?”

“Um, because it’s Patrick? But if you ever need help coming out to your parents, I’d be happy to fuck that up and then attempt fix it for you, so…”

Now David wasn’t sure if he was going to laugh or cry, either.

“Okay, I think we’ve both reached our limit,” David said. “We’ve been _far _too earnest and vulnerable tonight. Are you ready to complain about Roland?”

Stevie wiped the back of her hand over her eyes. “You would not _believe _what Roland did today.”

“Oh really? Tell me more.”

* * *

After they finished their wine, Stevie agreed to give David a ride to Patrick’s. Getting out his phone to check in with Patrick, David saw that Patrick had already texted him.

**Patrick**: Almost done? I got us a bottle of wine. 🙂🍷  
**Patrick**: I picked up a new pinot noir while I was in Elmdale today, it looks pretty good.

David suppressed a laugh.

**David**: ok  
**David**: ill be there soon**  
David**: sorry it took so long, Stevie had a bit of a crisis

**Patrick**: Oh no, is she okay?

**David**: yeah shes fine**  
David**: we talked it out

“So…” Stevie began as she pulled up in front of Patrick’s apartment building. She paused, then said in a rush, “You can give my number to the animal figurine woman. If you want. I mean, if you think she’d want to… to go out with me.”

“Oh! Oh, okay. Her name is Morgan. So, you don’t have to call her ‘animal figurine woman’ when she calls you.”

“Just so you know, if this doesn’t work out, I’m holding you responsible.”

“Okay, that is _entirely_ unfair. I rescind my matchmaking offer. Good luck on Bumpkin.”

Stevie made a face. “Thanks,” she said after a moment. “For… you know. Just, thank you.”

“Any time.” David smiled. “I mean it—we can talk any time.” David was surprised to realize that he meant it. He still wasn’t sure if he had actually helped Stevie at all. But he at least felt like he hadn’t fucked it up too badly.

“Alright, well,” David said, “I should really get going. Apparently, Patrick got us a bottle of pinot noir, and I don’t want to keep him waiting any longer.”

“Wow, pinot noir? Kinky.”

“Good night, Stevie.”

“Enjoy your threesome!” Stevie shouted after David as he got out of the car.


End file.
